“In this room, a skylight, a big door with a sun motif lintel, and a stair apparently not going to or coming from anywhere but the wall and ceiling. Already so much to contemplate, the air trickling or rushing past us, the sun pouring in one day, subdued the next. I’m thinking about this room, its sometimes wildly circulating air, and how we make things move or appear to move by our own passage through this place, changing everything a little just by being here.

At the core of this, existing light and air. Existing light the name for taking photographs without flash or floodlights, a practise I followed at first because I couldn’t afford flash or floodlights, and eventually came to prefer the changeability and mood swings of natural light.

There’s a web of thread that remembers a body’s contours, made while mourning my mom, and a series of ongoing photographs where I try to capture what it is to be with my aging dad, moments translucent with conversation during my brief visits. A wall of interleaving tissue wafts gently when you pass by, sensuously responding to your presence. A cycle of video clips take us back to the observed world where shadows and light project like ongoing movies onto everything, all the time.

And here I am, and here you are. I want to hold us all still for a moment, slow things down a bit. So hard to see what is always here, wherever here is. So hard to pay attention to everyday things that seem like nothing, but are everything.”